


It's All I've Got When You're In My Head

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious boys are oblivious, Pining, Sexual Confusion, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:23:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has been in love with his best friend since before he can remember and being apart at different colleges is more than he can handle. His infatuation with Bucky becomes a problem when he starts a relationship with someone else...</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All I've Got When You're In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not 100% sure that I like this fic and if it works or not but it seemed silly to sit on it and not post it. Expect more angst and less humour than my other works :P

Steve hated college. He went to his classes and tried to enjoy them, constantly trying to remind himself that he was here to work his ass off, to get his English degree and make his mom proud. He made some new friends who liked him, even though it had taken him a while to come out of his shell and they formed a tight little group, hanging out more often than not at their favourite bar, Wade's, playing pool. He even got hit on by several girls, enjoying the boost in confidence it gave him he but turned them all down politely. He hadn't been hit on by any guys. Yet. He knew he should feel good about his college life - it wasn't awful by a long shot - but he hated it.

Because Bucky wasn't there.

Steve couldn't entirely pinpoint in his life the moment when he had fallen in love with his best friend but when puberty had hit, hard and fast and messy, he realised that his feelings for Bucky ran a lot deeper than best-friend-feelings should have. He had done a good job of hiding it all these years, he thought. If Bucky had ever suspected, he'd never said anything and Steve was adamant that he wasn't going to say anything to him and potentially ruin their friendship. If Bucky had felt the same way towards Steve, he'd never said anything either so Steve had remained silent and went from one day to the next, trying to ignore the white-hot flare of desire and hurt he felt whenever he was with Bucky, which was all the time. It didn't make for an easy adolescence.

When Bucky had been accepted to MIT, Steve's world had crumbled around him. The five hour train journey from New York to Massachusetts might as well have been a one-way trip to the moon for all he cared. He couldn't imagine going a single day without seeing Bucky; they had grown-up in the same apartment building in Brooklyn, had gone through elementary school, junior high and high school together, tagged along on family vacations, spent every Christmas together. They'd maybe been apart no longer than a week the entire time they'd been friends. Bucky was everything to Steve.

"I'll text you every day. You'll get sick of that stupid Transformers alert noise because I'll be texting you so much," Bucky had said when his mom's Station Wagon was packed and they were about to leave. Steve would be heading to his dorm at NYU in a couple of days.

Steve had smiled and nodded, not trusting himself if he tried to speak, distracted thankfully by Becca dropping her can of 7-Up on the kerb and most of it spraying over his sneakers.

"Becca, for fuck's sake!" Bucky had shouted, ignoring his mom's outraged protest at the curse word.

"We'll Skype every week too?" Steve had said, conscious that Mrs Barnes was getting antsy, wanting to hit the road.

Bucky had smiled that _Bucky_ smile and grabbed Steve, pulling him into a tight hug. "Totally. I'll miss your stupid face."

Steve had swallowed the hot lump rising in his throat and hugged back. "I won't miss yours. Sick of the sight of it."

Bucky had let go and stepped over to the passenger side of the car, giving Steve one last sad grin before getting in. "I'll call you later, let you know what the place is like."

"You'd better." Steve had folded his arms across his chest, trying not to acknowledge the dizzy sick feeling that was creeping over him. He had stood with Becca, watching as they drove off and feeling like a piece of himself had been ripped away and he was bleeding steadily onto the street.

Becca had given him a gentle kick in the shin. "It's not like he's leaving the country," she'd said softly. She was too perceptive for a fourteen year-old and Steve knew she had figured him out a while ago, but because she'd always liked him she would never say anything to Bucky.

Steve had heaved out a heavy sigh. "He may as well be."

***

And now Steve was at NYU, trying to act like a nineteen year-old in college should act but failing miserably. Everyone except Sharon thought he was just the quiet maudlin type. He wasn't miserable _all_ the time but it had kind of become his default setting and he wanted more than anything to be the Steve he was when he was with Bucky - the Steve that was fun and goofy - but without Bucky there to bounce his personality off of, he didn't feel like himself. Despite this, the others seemed to like him (or put up with him) and hanging out with them dampened the pain a little.

"I told my friend Clint about you," Natasha said, leaning on her pool cue as Steve was lining up a shot one night at the bar.

"Oh yeah?" he answered, not rising to the bait.

Natasha clucked her tongue as he sunk two stripes in a row. "Yeah. He likes strong silent types."

Steve scowled. "I'm not _that_ silent." He missed the pocket and stepped back, letting Natasha take her turn.

"Okay then, he likes strong buff types. And blonds." She cursed as she hit one of Steve's stripes, giving him two shots.

Steve didn't say anything, just considered his options on the table and ignored Tony's shouts at him to get on with it Grandma, he wanted to play.

"He's really cute." Natasha was getting annoyed with him, he could tell.

"I'm sure he is," he said and sank the rest of his stripes and the black.

Tony jumped down from his bar stool and snatched Steve's cue out of his hand. "Finally!"

Natasha handed her cue to Rhodey and followed Steve to the bar. He ordered two beers and his phone beeped in his pocket. It was a text from Bucky; a photo of a crudely drawn dick on someone's dorm room door.

 **BUCKY:** This = you

Steve held back a grin and tapped a message back.

 **STEVE:** Looks like a selfie to me

He handed Natasha one of the beers and she took a swallow, glaring at him. "He's studying Creative Writing at Columbia. He likes books."

Steve watched as Tony broke too hard, the white ball flying off of the pool table and rolling away towards the door, protesting to Rhodey that the shot didn't count.

"A lot of people like books."

Steve's phone bleeped again. A photo of Bucky with his middle finger held up to the camera, his face out of focus but his blue eyes piercing and smiley and hitting Steve hard in the gut.

 **BUCKY:** Here's your fucking selfie

Natasha flared her nostrils and took another angry gulp of beer.

***

Steve went back home on the weekends when his Mom didn't have a long shift in the ER. They were all each other had and even though he was only a half hour away at NYU, he still got homesick. But coming home also meant no Bucky to hang out with. Walking by his apartment door made Steve's throat tight because his best friend wouldn't be there if he knocked. Bucky was having a great time at MIT and seemed to have acclimated himself to college life pretty quickly which made Steve feel even worse about everything; he worried that soon Bucky wouldn't need him at all.

"Everything okay, Stevie?" Mrs Rogers asked one Saturday evening. "Nothing you want to talk about?" They were eating meatloaf and listening to some oldies station on the radio.

Steve looked up, surprised by the sudden line of questioning. "Everything's fine. Why?"

Mrs Rogers fiddled with her fork. "You just seem...quiet."

Steve shrugged. "I'm fine, Mom." Fine. Everything was fine. Being apart from Bucky was fine.

"I know you miss Bucky..." she said softly.

Steve looked down at his meatloaf. "Of course I miss him."

Mrs Rogers took a deep breath. "I also know how you feel about him."

Steve looked up at her, mortified. "I don't know what you...what do you mean... "

"Stevie, I guessed a long time ago. Look, maybe this is what you need, time away from him, time to get your head together - "

"Mom, I don't want to talk about this. You don't...I'm not..." Steve pushed his plate away and twisted his napkin in his hands, suddenly feeling hot and shaky and sick to his stomach.

Mrs Rogers leaned across the table and took his hand. "It's okay, honey. I just hate to see you like this. I know you want him to feel the same but it doesn't always work out that way." She rubbed his hand gently until he calmed down.

Steve bit his lip and looked up at her, his face cracking, finally showing someone how he felt on the inside, how he'd felt for years. "It hurts, Mom. It really hurts."

Her heart broke a little. "I know it does."

***

Steve was sitting at his desk back at the dorm, waiting for Bucky to log onto Skype. He lived for 7pm on a Tuesday when he could see Bucky as well as speak to him but he didn't look forward to the crushing emptiness that enveloped him as soon as they hung up. But the anticipation of seeing that amazing face, all cocky grin and blue eyes, that deliberately messy hair, was enough to get Steve through another week. He drummed his fingers on the cheap wood nervously, wondering when he had started to feel so anxious waiting to talk to someone who he had spent nearly every waking moment with for the last 12 years.

Bucky's profile popped up and before Steve could hit call, Skype started to bleep. He answered quickly, his face breaking out into a lop-sided grin when he saw Bucky.

"Hey asshole," Bucky said, a huge smile on his own face.

"What up douchebag," Steve answered, his chest flooding with warmth.

"Always the charmer. How's it going?"

Steve nodded. "Pretty good," he lied. "Classes are good, friends are fun. How about you?"

Bucky ran a hand through his brown hair. "The work is slowly killing me. I swear, it's getting tougher. I don't know how cut out I am for it."

Steve smiled. "Well, what do you expect? You're studying rocket science."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "It's Aerospace Engineering."

"Yeah, fucking rocket science. You can do it, Buck. You wouldn't have got in if you couldn't."

"I know," Bucky sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. Steve let himself admire Bucky's upper arms and shoulders in the one-size-smaller-than-he-really-needed t-shirts he'd always insisted on wearing. "I'm just tired. Gabe is dragging me out to a party and threatening to make me do a keg stand."

Steve grinned. "Oh wow, get some pictures."

Bucky barked out a small laugh. "There's no way in hell I'm doing a keg stand. I like to know how I got back here when I wake up in the morning. And who with." He gave Steve a sly smile and Steve's stomach clenched. He didn't want to think about who Bucky hooked up with.

"No Freshman is safe," Steve said trying to keep the humour in his voice.

Bucky stretched out and put his hands behind his head. "I don't _usually_ like to kiss and tell but there's this one - "

Steve shifted in his chair and deliberately knocked over the glass of water to his left before Bucky could say anything else. "Shit! Fucking great. Just...hold on a sec, Buck..."

Steve grabbed his gym towel and started to mop up the water while Bucky threw insults at him.

Steve still remembered when Bucky, sixteen and breathless, had burst into his bedroom one Friday night, having convinced Mrs Rogers that he _absolutely_ had to speak to Steve at 11:45pm and that it _absolutely_ could not wait until morning, while Steve had been reading - In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, which he hadn't been able to finish at the time or since - and proclaimed that he'd done it, he'd had sex. Steve had feigned excitement and interest, all the while fighting back the numbing and devastating realisation that Bucky would never want him in that way, that smug, haughty Emma Frost had been the one to take away something so important from Bucky. Steve hadn't managed anything more than getting a sloppy blow-job from Kurt Wagner in a broom closet at their senior prom, so depressed at seeing Bucky dancing with Jessica Drew all night that he'd grabbed Wagner and just started to make out with him, not caring who saw, just needing to feel anything besides the crushing agony in his chest.

Steve threw the wet towel into his tiny bathroom and grabbed a clean t-shirt. He hesitated for a split second before peeling off his now (slightly, but not really worth changing out of) damp tee in front of the laptop, not making a show of it but not exactly rushing either, hoping that Bucky was looking.

Bucky leaned towards the camera. "Holy shit, Steve. How much have you been hitting the gym? I swear you get bigger every time I talk to you."

Steve pulled the clean tee down, already feeling like an idiot for putting on such a shameless display. "I go like every other morning. No more than usual." Going to the gym was one way for Steve to channel his frustration and he maybe went a little more often than he let on.

Bucky smirked. "I bet you get hit on all the time."

Steve looked down. "Not really."

Bucky had been the first person he'd come out to when he was fifteen, not even considering telling his mom even though he knew she'd do nothing but support him. Bucky had hugged Steve and told him how proud of him he was, asking if there was anyone at school he liked and Steve had held back telling Bucky that it was him, that it would always be him. He'd been living with that bitter ball of unrequited love festering away inside of him for years.

Steve heard a door open on Bucky's end and his roommate Gabe came in. Bucky greeted him and turned back to Steve. "I'll have to go soon," he said apologetically.

"That's okay. Sharon's coming by in twenty minutes and then we're meeting the others." Steve could already feel the grey cloud descending.

Gabe suddenly appeared over Bucky's shoulder. Steve hadn't actually met him yet; he was usually out at one of his clubs on a Tuesday.

"Hey, is that Steve? THE Steve?"

Bucky gave him a look. "Yeah, THE Steve."

Steve held up a hand. "Hey there."

Gabe grinned. "Good to finally meet you, man. Bucky talks about you all the time."

Steve raised his eyebrows and gave Bucky a smug smile. "Oh really?"

Bucky pushed Gabe away. "Not _all_ the time. A moderate amount of the time."

Gabe popped back into view and snorted. "Define moderate. Come on, we need to book."

Bucky gave Steve a little shrug. "Call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, no problem. Have fun at the party."

Bucky smiled fondly at him. "Miss you, asshole."

Steve managed a weak smile back. "Miss you too," he said softly and hung up before he gave himself away. He rested his head in his hands and sighed long and deep. He couldn't go on like this - it wasn't healthy. He also knew that what he was going to do next was even less healthy. Steve sat up and looked at the time; Sharon would be here in about fifteen minutes.

He got up, made sure his door was locked and went over to his bed. He had lucked out getting a private room on his scholarship with his own bathroom, even if it was the size of a closet but he was forever thankful for it, especially at times like this. He picked up his sketchbook and flipped it open, taking out the photo he kept there, already feeling the slow burn of guilt starting to make its way through him. A couple of weeks before they had both left for college, Steve had gone with Bucky's family up to his aunt's lake house in the Catskills for a long weekend. The weather had been amazing and they'd spent every day out on the lake swimming and goofing around and Steve hadn't wanted the time to end. Becca had taken a million photos on her new digital SLR and had given Steve one of Bucky stood on the dock in his swim trunks, hands on his hips, soaked from the water and glaring at the camera.

"A going-away present," she had said with a little smile, handing him the picture and snickering as Steve had turned bright red.

He felt bad every time he jerked off to the photo, like he was betraying Bucky's trust somehow, but looking at Bucky's lean wet body in the picture never failed to get him hard and he did it anyway.

***

Sharon smiled when he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

"You're all pink," she said. "What have you been doing?"

"Crunches," Steve answered, grateful that he sounded convincing and locked his door behind him.

She shook her head. "I've never met anyone who does crunches for fun. Like you _really_ need to do them outside of the gym."

"It helps me to relax."

They left the dorm and headed out across the courtyard. The evening was warm and clear and Steve took a few deep breaths, trying not to think about how he had stroked himself off over Bucky's picture for the millionth time.

"Did you make a start on the assignment for Hill's class yet?" Sharon asked, offering him some gum. She always had Juicy Fruit in her pocket. Steve took a stick.

"No, I was talking to my best friend. I'll start it tomorrow."

"Bucky, right?"

Steve nodded and kicked a stone down the street.

Sharon was quiet for a moment. "Is he the reason you're so sad all the time?"

Steve looked down at her. "What are you talking about? I'm not sad all the time."

"Well, you're not happy. Come on, Steve. The others may not notice but I do."

Steve clenched his jaw and turned away. First his mom, now Sharon. Was he _that_ obvious? "It's nothing."

Sharon sighed, knowing that Steve wouldn't talk to her even though he knew she was right.

***

"Oh, you are so screwed," Tony gloated as Steve frowned at the pool table. He was completely blocked in by Tony's stripes and would have to pull off a seriously lucky move to stand any chance of winning.

He bent awkwardly over the table, hoping that the shot he was lining up would make it when he heard Natasha laugh behind him.

"Wow, great timing. Hi, Steve's Ass," she said. His shot went wide and Tony whooped as he started to clean up, potting ball after ball.

Steve groaned and turned to Natasha. "Thanks for ruining my shot..." His voice trailed off when he saw the guy standing next to her.

"Steve, this is my friend Clint. The one who goes to Columbia."

Clint gave Steve a sleepy smile and held out his hand. "Hey. Nat's told me a lot about you."

Steve took his hand and shook it, suddenly flustered. "I, yeah, she's mentioned you too. I, uh. Hi."

Clint's smile widened and Natasha looked way too pleased with herself.

"You boys want beer?" She sauntered off before Steve could answer, leaving him to try and make conversation with a hot guy he knew all of three things about.

"So," Steve said, ignoring the jab Tony gave him in his lower back as he started to set up another game. Sharon was at the bar with Natasha, grinning over at them. "You like books?"

Clint gave a warm laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I like books."

Steve couldn't help but smile back. "Sorry, that was all Natasha really told me about you."

Clint put his hands in his jacket pockets and rocked back on his heels. "She told me a lot more about you."

"Rogers, you're in the way of the table. As _usual_ ," Tony said and Natasha and Sharon came over, drinks in their hands and conspiratorial smiles on their faces.

Natasha handed Steve and Clint a beer each and nodded towards two empty stools at the bar. "Why don't you guys go sit over there and let us play?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, that would be cool." He quirked an eyebrow at Steve.

"Okay," Steve said and followed Clint to the bar, glancing quickly over his shoulder at Natasha. She mouthed I FUCKING TOLD YOU to him and Sharon gave him a thumbs-up. Tony made a blow-job motion with his hand and mouth that Steve could have done without seeing and he looked away and joined Clint.

"Uh, have you and Natasha known each other long?" Steve asked, glad he had a beer to keep his hands busy. He was nervous and a little excited. Clint seemed...very nice.

Clint nodded. "Been best friends since we were eleven." He took a swig of beer. "She's been talking about you for weeks now. I finally agreed to come along tonight just to shut her up."

"So, um, what did she tell you about me?" Steve asked, not meaning to sound flirty but doing it anyway. Clint didn't seem to mind.

"Well, that you're an English major, you're kind of quiet but nice, funny. 6'1...?" he gave Steve a questioning squint.

"6'2," Steve said.

Clint nodded. "6'2, blond, ripped."

Steve felt the color rise in his cheeks. "All she told me about you was that you like books and that you were cute."

Clint leaned on the bar. "I can tell you a whole lot more if you think you'd be interested?" He gave Steve a playful smile.

Steve smiled back and for the first time in a long while he didn't think about Bucky at all.

***

They went out several times for coffee over the next week and Steve found himself liking Clint more and more. He liked the same books and music that Steve did, he was smart and funny and he made Steve feel good about himself. _Really_ good. He still felt a sharp pang in his chest whenever he thought about Bucky but it seemed to hurt less and less the more time he spent with Clint. He was sure this was leading somewhere and he wondered if this is what he needed to make himself happy and finally accept that Bucky would never feel the way that Steve felt about him.  

One afternoon, they were in a bookstore looking for a copy of The Raw Shark Texts - Clint hadn't read it and Steve had been raving about it - when Clint leaned in and kissed Steve softly on the mouth.

He seemed slightly worried by the look on Steve's face when he pulled away. "Was I okay to do that?" He sounded nervous which Steve immediately found all kinds of endearing; Clint was usually so confident.

Steve smiled shyly. "Yeah, very okay. I just... I can do much better than that." He grabbed Clint's jacket by the collar and brought their mouths together again.

***

Bucky answered his phone after the first ring. "If it isn't Steven Grant Rogers."

"James Buchanan Barnes. How goes, you dumb punk?"

"Better now that I'm speaking to you, jerk-ass."

They both laughed and Steve suddenly thought that he could do it; he could get over Bucky. There was still something there, there always would be, but since meeting Clint he'd felt happier and lighter than he had for a long time, the heavy knot of infatuation he had tied up inside himself for Bucky all these years was slowly, finally, starting to unravel.

"I've got some news," Steve said.

Bucky made an intrigued noise. "Well, don't leave a bro hanging."

"I'm seeing someone."

There was a slight hesitation before Bucky spoke. So slight Steve almost missed it but it was there. Then Bucky was talking a mile a minute, excited and thrilled. "What the fuck?! Since when? For how long? And why the fuck didn't you say anything to me sooner? Jesus, Steve!"

Steve laughed. "I know, I'm sorry. It kind of took me by surprise and I didn't want to jinx it."

"So who is he? Come on, give me some details!"

"His name is Clint, he's studying at Columbia and he's great. He's really smart and he's just...he's amazing."

"Is he cute?" Bucky asked with a sly drawl.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yes, he's very cute."

"Dude, I'm so happy for you. It's about fucking time; I can't understand how you've been single for this long."

Because I only ever wanted you, Steve thought but shook it away. "Well, it happened. At last."

They talked for a little while and Steve told Bucky how he had met Clint and the progression to being his boyfriend and how Natasha now claimed he owed her big time.

"Shit - Steve, I'm sorry but I have to go; there's a big thing tonight," Bucky said, "and I've got my eye on someone. Can I call you after the weekend?"

"Sure," Steve said, not as bent out of shape by hearing Bucky mention a potential hook-up as he would have been before he met Clint. There was still a small flare of jealousy but it was turning into a receding ache rather than the stabbing pain it used to be.

They threw a few choice insults at each other and Steve finally said good-bye, about to hang up.

"Steve," Bucky said quickly and Steve put the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah, Buck?"

"You're happy, right?"

Steve swallowed before answering, knowing that he'd never be completely happy, that part of him would still want Bucky more than anything. But that was never going to happen and Steve was finally starting to accept it, little by little.

"Yeah. I'm happy."

"Then that's all that counts. Bye, Steve." He hung up and Steve looked at the phone, not sure why he didn't feel quite as good as he did a minute ago.

***

Being with Clint was easy and fun. The wall Steve had built up around himself since being apart from Bucky finally started to come down and the others couldn't stop crowing over the change in him.

"Where the fuck was _this_ Steve hiding all this time?" Rhodey said one night at Wade's.

Steve had just sung (and rapped) his way effortlessly through Roses by Outkast when it had started to play, surprising everyone, reducing Sharon to tears because she was laughing so hard and leaving Tony open-mouthed and horrified.

Steve laughed softly and Clint wrapped a hand around Steve's waist and nuzzled his neck.

"Looks like all he needed was some cock to get him to lighten up," Tony scoffed and Sharon slapped the back of his head.

Steve just blushed and smiled when Clint kissed him. He caught the self-righteous smirk Natasha gave him over the rim of her glass and mouthed THANK YOU, OKAY? to her.

***

Steve didn't mean for what happened next to happen, he really didn't. Five weeks had gone by and he was happy, genuinely happy. His college work improved, he was more outgoing and his mom was overjoyed.

"So when do I get to meet him? You're really torturing me with this, Kiddo."

Steve had smiled and told her soon. He was still finding his feet.

Regardless of what Tony had said in the bar, Steve and Clint hadn't progressed any further than kissing. They were both happy to take things slow for the time being but Steve could feel things starting to build up. They spent more time at Steve's dorm; Clint's roommate was a hermit and never went out anywhere that wasn't one of his classes. They couldn't really do anything at his place besides watch movies and play Smash Brothers with Bruce who was nice and all, but they would soon start making eyes at each other, wanting to touch and be alone.

Clint came over on Thursday after his archery club (Steve went along once and hadn't quite managed to tell Clint how turned on he'd gotten watching him) with a bag of take-out. Steve was finishing up a paper for Monday, wanting to be ahead of himself and Clint flopped on the bed and looked at the photos on Steve's wall while he read over his assignment.

"So will I get to meet Bucky at some point?" Clint asked. Steve talked about Bucky a lot.

Steve nodded. "Yeah, it all depends on when he can get back home. MIT has him working pretty hard."

Since he'd started to see Clint they hadn't spoken as much, Bucky's workload suddenly becoming almost unmanageable and they'd put their Skype chats on hold. They still texted a lot and called each other whenever they could, but Bucky had suddenly become a lot less available than he used to be. Steve had finally caught him at a good time and asked him when he would be back in New York for a weekend, desperate to see him and eager for him to meet Clint.

Bucky had been apologetic. "I know, dude. Believe me, I can't wait to meet him but I need all the time I can get right now. If I come home I'll want to spend more time with you but Mom and Dad will drag me to see my grandparents and Becca will want me to take her and her friends out and ugh, it's just easier for me to stay here and work. See how it looks after mid-terms?"

Steve had been disappointed but understood, although he couldn't help but feel like something was slightly off.

Steve hit save, closed his laptop and stood up, stretching the crick out of his back. Clint was looking at Steve's favourite photo of him and Bucky tacked to the wall - a close-up shot of them with their arms around each other, smiling like idiots. Steve's _other_ favourite photo of Bucky was hidden away in his closet. He hadn't looked at it in weeks.

Clint glanced up at him. "So," he said and Steve tried not to fidget self-consciously as his eyes moved over him.

"You want to eat?" Steve indicated the bag of food.

"Eventually. Get over here."

Steve smiled and climbed on the bed next to him, laughing softly as Clint immediately kissed his neck and jaw.

They started to make out and Steve closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Clint's hand in his hair, his other hand running lightly over his side while Steve stroked the back of Clint's neck and suddenly he was thinking about Bucky. It was Bucky pushing his tongue into Steve's mouth, Bucky running a hand across his stomach under his t-shirt. And that was all it took - after weeks of not pining, of not thinking about Bucky every waking moment, of not touching himself whenever he thought about Bucky - it was all back; that burning frustration of wanting his best friend as more than a friend, of wanting Bucky to touch him like this. His feelings had never really gone away; he'd just been distracted but now it was all here again and worse than ever.

He kissed Clint harder, pulled him closer. Clint responded enthusiastically and rolled on top of Steve, giving a surprised little chuff when, after several frantic moments of frenzied kissing, Steve nudged his thigh between Clint's legs with a moan.

Clint pulled back and looked down at Steve, out of breath and smiling. "What's gotten into you tonight?"

Steve just shook his head and pulled Clint back down, unable to believe how _good_ it felt to think that Bucky was doing this to him, guilty and confused that he was making this happen but not wanting to stop as he slid a hand into Clint's pants.

I'm not hurting anyone, Steve thought to himself.

***

Steve and Natasha were sitting at the bar watching Clint and Tony argue over who got to break. Steve gave Clint a little wave when he looked over and Clint winked at him.

"So," Natasha said with a grin, "it's going well?"

He looked down and smiled. "Yeah, it's going great."

"He cares about you a lot."

Steve tried to push away the brief flash of shame as she said it. He thought about Bucky all the time when he and Clint were alone now. All he had to do was close his eyes.

***

 **BUCKY:** heeeeyyyy stvee

 **STEVE:** Hey Buck. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you're drunk

 **BUCKY** : a little

 **STEVE:** It's late

 **BUCKY:** did i wake u up

 **STEVE:** No, I was reading

 **BUCKY:** is clint there

 **STEVE:** No, he's at his place tonight

 **BUCKY:** ah

 **STEVE:** Everything okay pal?

 **BUCKY:** fiiiine just wanted to say hi

 **STEVE:** Hi :P

 **BUCKY:** steve

 **STEVE:** What?

 **BUCKY:** im so wasted sorry i woke u up

 **STEVE:** You didn't wake me up, remember?

 **BUCKY:** oh

 **STEVE:** Are you sure everything's okay?

 **BUCKY:** everythngs fine go back to sleep

***

The dorm bathrooms on Clint's floor at Columbia were all backed up from some frat prank gone wrong, so he was using Steve's shower. Steve was sitting on his bed and reading Bucky's copy of Salem's Lot that he'd somehow ended up with, waiting for Clint to finish so they could go out and get dinner. He flipped through the worn book to the inside front page and ran his finger over the faded scribble in biro that proclaimed the book was the "PROPERTY OF JAMES BARNES HANDS OFF". Steve still remembered when Bucky had bought it - they must have been thirteen or so and they'd both read it obsessively several times. It felt good to have something of Bucky's that held a part of their history together, even if it was just a book.

Steve sighed. Everything was fucked up. _He_ was fucked up. Things were getting more serious between him and Clint now and Steve was steadily edging over a line that would soon be too hard to cross back from; all he could think about when Clint touched him was Bucky. It was such a shitty thing to do but he couldn't seem to stop. He had started to jerk off to Bucky's photo again. He tried to tell himself that people did worse things.

The water stopped running in the bathroom. He skimmed back through the book to the page he'd been reading.

"Clint?" Steve called. "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

The bathroom door opened a moment later and Clint stepped out into the room naked, hair still wet from the shower. Steve blinked, taken aback. They had become more physical over the last couple of weeks, getting each other off with most of their clothes still on, but this was the first time Steve had seen Clint completely undressed. He walked over to the bed and took Steve's book from him, placing it gently on the nightstand. Steve looked up at him.

"I thought we could stay in tonight," Clint said, his voice low. "If you want to."

Steve swallowed and nodded. "I want to."

Clint climbed onto the bed and pulled Steve's t-shirt off. He gently pushed Steve down until he was on his back and started to undo his jeans, kissing him softly.

Steve closed his eyes.

***

"Were you even going to tell me?" Steve couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

Bucky sighed heavily into the phone. "I didn't mean to; we couldn't have spent any time together anyway."

Steve had called his mom earlier to see if he'd left his red binder behind the last time he was in Brooklyn and she had asked him why he hadn't come back to see Bucky, that he'd been home from MIT for the weekend.

"Buck, I haven't seen you in over three months! My dorm is less than thirty minutes away from home. We could have seen each other, even just for an hour."

"Steve, it was a last minute thing and it was a really crappy visit anyway. I was arguing with my dad the whole weekend and Becca was being a brat - "

Steve was hurt. Bucky knew how much he'd wanted to see him and he hadn't even told him he was coming back to New York. It was bad enough that they barely had time to speak on the phone anymore. "That's not the point and you know it."

Bucky was getting angry himself. "Christ Steve, it's not even a big thing. Why are you throwing a hissy fit? It was one weekend. I figured you'd be too busy with Clint to want to meet up anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve said, a flare of worry blooming in his chest; Bucky never spoke like this. "You know how much I've wanted to see you and you know how much I want you to meet Clint."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Bucky's voice was softer. "I should've told you."

Steve chewed the inside of his cheek. "Will I at least get to see you at Christmas?"

Bucky hesitated before he answered. "We're going to Wisconsin for Christmas."

"Wisconsin! But...you said... " Bucky's dad had fallen out with his own parents a long time ago and as far as Steve knew, they hadn't seen or spoken to them in years.

"I know. My grandma called Dad and said they wanted to patch things up before it was too late. They want to get to know me and Becca again." He laughed bitterly. "Believe me, I'd rather not go."

Steve was trying desperately not to get upset. Was this how it started? Were they finally going to drift apart and just become two guys who were best friends in school and then go their separate ways? He didn't want that to happen, couldn't bring himself to think about it. He _needed_ Bucky. He didn't want things to change and college was changing everything. It was _wrecking_ everything.

Steve realised that he hadn't replied and he ran a hand through his hair, holding back a sob.

"We'll see each after the New Year," Bucky said quietly. "I promise."

"Okay," Steve said and he didn't care that his voice sounded broken. "I have to go now. I'll speak to you soon."

"Steve, wait..." Bucky began but Steve hung up.

Bucky didn't call him back.

***

Sharon knew that something was wrong and tried to get him to talk. They were sitting in a booth at Wade's, waiting for Tony and Natasha. Clint was out with some of his friends from Columbia.

"Is everything okay between you and Clint? Did something happen?" She looked concerned and Steve was grateful that she cared.

Steve shook his head. "No, me and Clint are fine. It's Bucky; he's been so busy with his college work. We barely talk anymore and he's been acting like he doesn't want to see me and it's just...I feel like I'm losing him as a friend. I've tried so hard not to put him on the sideline while I've been seeing Clint but it's like there's always some reason for him to not want to speak to me now. It was never like this before."

Sharon shrugged helplessly. "I think that's just the way it goes. College is different from High School. People change, old friendships don't last. I've been through similar. Friends I thought would be BFFs in eighth grade are now just girls I used to know."

"No, me and Bucky have always been so close. It can't happen. I don't know if I could cope if he wasn't my friend anymore...he's _always_ been there..." Steve rubbed his forehead.

Sharon looked at him for a moment, the look she got that made him uncomfortable, like she could read his mind. "Have you spoken to Clint about this?"

"No. He hasn't even met Bucky yet."

Sharon saw how worked up Steve was and tried to be positive. "Maybe I'm wrong. It sounds like Bucky's got a lot on his plate with his degree and everything. It might not be as bad as you think."

Steve couldn't quite manage a smile. "Maybe."

Natasha and Tony finally turned up and Steve gave Sharon a look before acting like everything was okay. He was getting good at it.

***

Bucky texted him a lot over the next few days and Steve went along with it, but it felt like Bucky was overcompensating to make him feel better. The fear that he was maybe losing his best friend didn't quell Steve's longing for him though. If anything it seemed to send it into overdrive.

He concentrated on being with Clint, enjoying how he smiled at him, how much fun they had together but he was aware that he wasn't giving himself fully, always holding back. Steve was starting to feel even more guilty about being with Clint while he felt the way he did about Bucky but he cared about him a lot, he really did and he wanted to be with him. He tried not to let his mind wander when they had sex but it seemed to be an automatic reaction now and it was Bucky he was with in those moments, not Clint.

Steve thought he was doing such a good job of hiding it.

***

Natasha insisted on taking Steve for a coffee after class one day. It was cold and grey and the smell of snow was in the air.

"So, how are you?" Natasha asked, shaking a liberal amount of cinnamon into her latte. The lunchtime rush was ebbing and the coffee place was quiet and warm.

"Good. Did Clint tell you that we got to feed the penguins at the zoo?"

Natasha smiled. "Yeah, he sent me a photo." She stirred her coffee. "Steve, you would talk to Clint...if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

She waved a hand. "He's got this really annoying habit that if he thinks something isn't right, he tries to ignore it, but it's so obvious that he's chewing on it all the time. He gets this _face_...and it's frustrating as hell." She looked at him with her intense green eyes and his stomach flipped. No-one but his mom knew how deep his true feelings for Bucky ran so it couldn't be that, he was certain. He thought that Sharon maybe suspected there was more to his relationship with Bucky but she would never say anything to anybody.

He thought back to the other night when he and Clint had gone out to a movie and then back to Steve's. Clint had seemed to be on the verge of saying something all evening but eventually said nothing and settled into a distracted silence. Steve would have welcomed being called out on anything. He was too much of a coward to call himself on it and the shame burned.

Steve fixed his gaze on his cup of coffee. "Nothing's wrong. Did he say something to you?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, but I know him too well. He just seems...I don't know. Maybe I'm seeing a problem where there isn't one." He could feel her looking at him.

Steve glanced up at her briefly. "One of the guys in his archery club was being a dick to him. Could that be it?" He felt like a rat.

Natasha laughed. "Rumlow, right? Clint can handle him. That's not something he'd get all wound up about anyway."

Steve took a sip of coffee. "Should I try to talk to him?"

She huffed out a sigh. "No, he'll guess that I said something to you and get mad at me. He likes to think he's a big boy and that he doesn't need my help. Unfortunately, I know him better than he knows himself."

Steve thought that he and Bucky had that kind of relationship but things had shifted between them and now Steve just felt lost.

Natasha swung a leg up onto the chair next to her. "I'm sure it's nothing." But when Steve looked at her, she didn't seem all that convinced.

***

"Hey."

Steve opened his eyes and looked down at Clint. "What?" he panted.

Clint searched Steve's face. "Where are you?"

Steve lost his rhythm slightly and rested his forearms either side of Clint, leaning down to brush a hand through his hair.

"I'm right here."

Clint gave him a strange little smile. "Are you sure?"

Steve kissed him hard. "I'm sure." He started to move again and Clint gasped, closing his own eyes and burying his face in Steve's neck.

Steve glanced up at the photos of Bucky on his wall, at the face he knew so well - every line and curve etched into his mind, wanting more than anything to be with him right now. Steve pushed away the guilt. I'm not hurting anybody, he told himself again but even the voice in his head didn't sound as certain this time.

***

Steve wasn't a cruel person; at least he'd always thought he wasn't, anyway. Bucky used to tease him and say that he'd never met anybody so sickeningly nice in all his life. His teachers always commented on what a good student he was, how people should look up to his example. His mom was proud that she'd raised such a decent young man. But here he was, faking his way through a relationship and wishing that the person he was with was someone he couldn't have. Good people didn't do that, right? He'd never been so confused and there was no-one he could talk to about it. He felt about as far from nice, good and decent as he ever thought he'd been.

***

The weather had grown colder; it hadn't started to snow yet but the sky was a constant gray-white sheet, the clouds almost at bursting point. In a week, Steve would be home for Christmas vacation. He hadn't made any plans with Clint yet, unsure of what to do. There was a constant tight feeling of anxiety in his chest and no amount of running or going to the gym could get rid of it. He thought about Bucky all the time.

He was in his room one evening folding his laundry when his phone bleeped.

 **BUCKY:** Hey! Looks like we'll be back in NY on the 29th. Want to spend New Year together?

Steve's heart leapt.

 **STEVE:** That would be awesome!

 **BUCKY:** What about Clint?

 **STEVE:** We haven't made any plans. He'll be okay with it.

 **BUCKY:** Cool :)

Steve smiled and let out a relieved breath. Maybe things could be good again. He would talk to Bucky and get everything out in the open. He knew he would never be able to tell him how he _truly_ felt about him, but he didn't want to think that there could be a chance that he would lose his friendship. He would try harder not to think about him as much in that way and put all of his efforts into his relationship with Clint. He could do this.

Steve picked up his phone and started a text when there was a knock on the door. It was Clint. Steve was surprised; they hadn't made any plans to meet today and he was sure that he had a class that ran until 8pm. He was pleased to see him though.

"Hey, I was just about to text you."

Clint gave him a tight smile and walked into the room. He stopped at Steve's desk and gripped his chair with one hand. "I need to talk to you."

Steve closed his door and leaned against it. "What's wrong?" He suddenly didn't feel very good.

Clint sat on Steve's bed. He was kneading his hands together. Steve walked over to his bed slowly and sat down next to him.

"What is it?" he asked again.

Clint didn't look at him. "I'm in love with you."

Steve tensed. He didn't know what to say. He knew what he _should_ have said, but his mind went blank and he couldn't bring himself to form the words. He was suddenly and painfully aware of how much of an asshole he was; how that when he thought that he wasn't hurting anyone, he'd been thinking only about himself and obviously not Clint. A heavy silence settled between them.

"I...care about you a lot," Steve finally said softly.

Clint laughed quietly, as if Steve had just confirmed something for him. He shook his head slightly and swallowed hard.

Steve rubbed his palms on his jeans. "Clint..."

Clint just shook his head again and looked over at Steve's photos. He reached across and pulled the one of Steve and Bucky together off of the wall. Steve froze. Clint looked at the picture for a long time.

He finally turned and looked at Steve, his face hard, holding up the photo. "Tell me that you don't think about him when we're together."

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He couldn't answer and just looked at Clint, pleading for his brain to make him say all the right things but nothing happened. He knew; how long had he known? Clint's face fell and Steve felt like a piece of shit. He never thought he was capable of making someone look that way.

"Tell me that you haven't been in love with him all this time." Clint's voice was raw.

Steve's voice was barely audible when he spoke. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to..."

Clint turned away and made a strangled sound that hurt Steve worse than anything. Clint stood up, threw the photo onto Steve's desk and headed for the door.

"Clint, wait - please don't go. I can try and...I can..." Steve fumbled and started to go after him.

"Good-bye, Steve," Clint said and was out of the door before Steve could say anything else.

Steve followed him out into the hallway. "Clint, please. Please come back. Just let me..."

Clint turned around, still walking and held up a hand. "Don't, Steve. Just...just fucking don't." His eyes were red.

Steve watched helplessly as he disappeared down the stairwell and numbly went back into his room. He sat down on the bed and stared down at his hands; he was such a prick. How could he do this? Clint had been the best thing to happen to him in a long time and he had thrown it all away. He picked up the photo of himself and Bucky and thought about his mess of a life.

***

When Tony found him in Wade's a few hours later, Steve was already on his way to being good and hammered. Doubles of neat Southern Comfort could do that quite nicely, he'd discovered, and he savoured the burn as it went down. He had tried calling Clint several times, not really expecting him to answer. He had considered going to his dorm at Columbia but it would have been a wasted trip. He'd left six messages for him, each one more slurred than the last, matching every drink he downed. He was a big guy and it had taken him longer to get drunk than he thought.

"Wow, pounding them down I see," Tony said when he saw Steve's current drink, a couple of empty glasses on the bar and how he was swaying slightly on his seat. "What's the big occasion?"

Steve clenched his jaw and looked down into his glass. He wasn't in the mood to talk to Tony but he would find out what happened eventually. "Clint broke up with me."

He expected some snippy remark but Tony was quiet for a moment then said, "Ah, shit. Sorry, Rogers." Then he kind of patted Steve awkwardly but sincerely on the back. Steve would have found it hilarious had he not been feeling the worst he'd ever felt in his life.

Tony frowned. "I'm not very good at this kind of thing. Sharon and Rhodey are much more the commiserating types. Do people still say "there there" in these kinds of situations?"

Steve snorted out a wry laugh. "Don't go hurting yourself, Tony."

Tony gave him a smile. "I can't tell you that everything's going to be okay and sound convincing but I can, however, help you get more drunk. What are you putting away?"

"Double Southern Comfort. Neat. Thanks." Steve wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Tony made a face. "Yikes." He waved to the bartender. "Two more of those?" He pointed to Steve's glass.

When Sharon and Rhodey turned up twenty minutes later, Steve was looking like a puppeteered corpse.

"What happened?" Sharon asked, shocked and concerned as she put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Clint dumped him," Tony said.

She shot Tony a look. "I'm assuming _you_ helped him to get this shit-faced," and Tony made a face and held up his hands. "Oh, Steve. I'm so sorry." She put an arm around him.

Steve shook his head frantically, regretting it as everything span and swam before him. "Don't. Don't feel sorry for me. It was my fucking fault. I'm a fucking asshole." He covered his face with his hands.

"What did you do?" Rhodey asked and looked over at Tony for an answer when Steve just shook his head again.

Tony shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me. Just keeps saying that it was his fault."

Sharon rubbed his back. "Well, he obviously feels pretty bad about it, whatever he did."

Tony sat up straight on his stool. "Ooh, I think we're about to find out..."

Natasha was storming over to the bar, her face twisted in rage and Steve recoiled when he saw her. She pushed Sharon aside and jabbed Steve painfully in the chest.

"You lied to me," she hissed. "You told me nothing was wrong. You lied to my face."

Rhodey tried to step in. "Whoa, Nat - just calm down..."

Natasha spun around and pointed at him. " _Don't_ tell me to calm down. This is none of your business."

Tony looked at Rhodey and Sharon with wide eyes and they stepped back, uncomfortable with what was happening but damned if they were leaving Steve on his own with Natasha while she was in this state.

She turned back to Steve, getting in his face. "How could you do that to him? What the fuck is wrong with you? You _don't_ string someone along like that." She was practically spitting.

Steve didn't try to turn away from her. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen." His voice broke and he dropped his glass. Natasha didn't even move as it smashed on the floor next to her feet.

Sharon looked around nervously. A few other people were watching the scene with interest but luckily the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out most of the drama.

"Do you realise just how much you've hurt him? _Do you_?"

Steve started to cry. "Yes! Yes I do!" He slid off of his stool and made a gurgling noise before hurrying at a lean towards the bathroom.

Tony made an impressed hum. "I was expecting him to go straight down onto his face as soon as he stood up. Good for him."

Steve burst into one of the men's room stalls, the door swinging shut with a bang behind him before he puked his guts out into the toilet. He slumped to the floor and heaved into the bowl painfully. He heard the swell of music and noise as the men's room door opened and someone said, "Hey, you're not supposed to be in here!"

"Bite me!" Natasha shouted and Steve groaned, spitting a long string of bile into the bowl.

She came into his stall and shut the door, folding her arms and looking down at him coldly.

Steve took a few breaths and wiped his mouth. He flushed the toilet and stayed on the floor, gray and exhausted. "Don't stand there and judge me," he said hoarsely.

Natasha didn't move. "I'm making sure that you don't fall and drown in a puddle of your own vomit. Not that you don't deserve to. Clint's not an idiot. Did you think he wouldn't know that something wasn't right? You humiliated him."

Steve rested his head against the cubicle wall. "I never meant to hurt him. I thought...I don't know what I was thinking."

Natasha just stood and watched him for a moment then turned away. She opened the stall door and nodded to the row of basins. "Clean yourself up and I'll take you home."

***

Sharon, Tony and Rhodey were waiting outside the men's room when Natasha came out with an arm around Steve's waist, helping him to walk upright. He was surprised at her strength, given how small she was. Rhodey held a glass of water out to Steve and he took it, not looking at any of them.

"Is he okay?" Sharon asked.

Natasha scowled. "No. I'm taking him home."

"Can you text me when he's back?" Sharon looked worried.

"That way we'll know you haven't murdered him in some back alley," Tony snickered and then shrugged when Sharon glared at him.

It wasn't a long way back to Steve's dorm and the night air helped to clear his head a little. Natasha kept her arm firmly around him the whole way back and didn't say a word. When he unlocked the door to his room and went inside, she followed him in. He staggered over to the bed and sat down heavily, staring down at his lap. Natasha went into his bathroom and came back with a glass of water, handing it to him. He drank it and looked anywhere but at her, his head still spinning and starting to throb.

"You really hurt him," she said finally, but her voice was softer than before.

"I know," Steve said quietly. "I thought...I thought for a while that I could fall in love with him and forget about how I feel for...."

Natasha sat down at Steve's desk and picked up the photo of Bucky and Steve sitting next to his laptop and looked at it, her face unreadable. "I hope he's worth all of this."

Steve took the picture from her. "Do you have any idea how bad it feels to be in love with someone for as long as you've known them and know that they'll never want you in the same way?"

"Yes, I do," she said and Steve looked at her, surprised by how stricken she sounded. Natasha didn't do vulnerable. "I know how it feels. I've felt it for the last nine years and I have to stand here and accept it every fucking day otherwise it would tear me to shreds. The best I can do is be happy for...him." She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "All I ever wanted was to make sure he was happy because then _I_ would be. And look where that's gotten us."

They were silent for a long time.

"I had no idea you felt that way about him," Steve said.

"Yeah, well. What good does it do for me to say it?"

He leaned across and took her hand. "Please don't hate me," he said, his voice small and pleading.

Natasha gave his hand a squeeze and then let go. "I don't hate you. But I don't like you right now. I won't like you for a while because of what you've done to him. You understand that, right?" She wasn't angry but her eyes were cold.

Steve nodded. "I don't like me very much right now."

Natasha stood up and she looked tired. "Get some sleep." She headed to the door and hesitated before she stepped out into the hallway. "You need to tell him how you feel, Steve. Whether he does or doesn't feel the same way about you makes no difference. If you keep carrying this with you, it's going to destroy every relationship you ever try to have and you're going to end up alone. And as much as I don't like you at the moment, I really don't want that for you."

She gave him one last look before closing the door and leaving him feeling lost and ashamed.

***

It was 2:30am by the time Steve decided to call Bucky. He wasn't completely sober yet but he just needed to hear his voice, to know that all this was worth how he felt about him. He knew that Natasha was right; he had to tell him because this wasn't going away. There were three outcomes to Steve admitting his feelings for Bucky: He wouldn't feel the same way but would still want him as a friend, however awkward everything would become. He wouldn't feel the same way and their friendship would be over. The third outcome, and the one Steve didn't want to consider at all because he knew the answer already and it hurt too much to want to hope for it, was that he felt the same way.

Bucky answered on the third ring, his voice sleep addled and alarmed. "Steve? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry to call you so late but I needed to...I've had a bad..." he trailed off.

"Have you been drinking?" Bucky asked with a sigh and he sounded annoyed. Steve heard Gabe say something to Bucky and he didn't sound too happy. "Steve, it's really late and I have to be up at - "

"Clint broke up with me," Steve said and his breath hitched. He shifted on his pillow and pulled his blanket up to his chin.

There was a long beat of silence on the other end. "Shit, Steve. I'm sorry," Bucky's voice was softer and Steve heard shuffling. "Look, just hold on a sec, okay?"

"Okay," Steve said. He heard movement and a door closing.

Bucky's voice was hushed and he sounded like he was walking. "I'm just going to the common room - I don't think anyone will be in there and we can talk." He heard Bucky sit down with a woof of breath. "So, what happened?" he finally asked.

Steve couldn't help the tears that came. "I was...I was such a prick."

"I find that hard to believe," Bucky said, his voice was gentle and reassuring.

"No! I was so cruel...I...everyone assumes that it wasn't my fault...it was me..." Steve knew he wouldn't be able to tell him.

"So what did you do?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Just know that it was my fault and I...I've ruined everything." Everything, he thought to himself. Because he would have to tell Bucky how he felt about him eventually and then it would _all_ be gone.

"Is there no way to fix things?" Bucky asked.

Steve swallowed. "He told me he was in love with me."

Bucky was silent for a moment. "Are you in love with him?"

"No," Steve said. "I don't...I don't think I could have fallen in love with him. I tried to but...I was lying to myself."

He thought he could hear Bucky raking his hand through his hair. "Then it wouldn't have worked out anyway," he said softly. "What's the point of being in a relationship with someone if you know for sure that you could never love them?"

Steve sniffed and wiped his eyes. "I guess. I just...I realised a while ago and I kept seeing him and it was so _mean_ and when he found out that I was - " He stopped suddenly.

"That you what?"

Steve shook his head. "When he found out that I wasn't who he thought I was."

Bucky chuffed a little laugh. "Steve, you're the most infuriatingly genuine person I've ever known in my life. You're a good guy whatever you think you've done.."

"I thought I was," Steve said, barely audible. "Bucky...I..." He tried to form the words, but they wouldn't come.

Bucky was silent on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry I called you so late. I just needed to talk to someone who...who knows me." Steve rolled onto his back. The tight feeling in his chest and stomach was coming back. At this rate he'd end up giving himself an ulcer.

"You can call me any time, you know that. Hey, I'll see you soon anyway, right?"

"I can't wait. I've really missed you." Steve stared up at the ceiling.

"I've really missed you too," Bucky said and there was something sad in his voice. "Go to sleep, Steve."

"Thanks Buck. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He hung up.

***

Steve woke to a soft insistent tapping on his door. He turned over with a moan; his head was pounding and his mouth tasted like puke and Southern Comfort. His stomach rolled slightly as he sat up and he sat still for a few seconds, gauging whether or not he was going to be sick again. Steve looked at his phone; 11:40am. Shit, he had a class at 9:00am. Too late now. He got up and went to his door, half hoping and half dreading that it might be Clint.

"Who is it?" he said, his voice croaky and dry.

"It's Sharon. I've got food and painkillers."

Steve opened the door, aware of what a state he must look in last night's crumpled clothes and however his face looked. It must have finally started to snow because Sharon had a light dusting of white flakes in her hair and on her jacket. Her cheeks were pink.

"Oh, Steve," she said with a pitying little sigh when she saw him.

He stepped aside and let her in. He went into the bathroom, splashed his face with cold water (he refused to look at himself in the mirror) and then stumbled back into his room and sat on his bed, not saying anything as Sharon pulled a package from the paper bag she was carrying.

"Grilled-cheese sandwich?" She rummaged in the paper bag again and held up a bottle of Advil. "These go really well together."

Steve huffed out a little laugh and took the sandwich and the pills. "Thanks."

Sharon sat down at Steve's desk and pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail. "When you didn't show up to class I thought you might need someone to bring you food and a non-judgemental shoulder to cry on."

Steve looked down at the wrapped package in his hand, feeling the warmth of the grilled-cheese against his skin. "I don't deserve it."

"I'm sure what you did wasn't as bad as all that. Clint's a reasonable guy, I'm sure if you just - "

"I've been in love with my best friend for years and when I fucked Clint I thought about Bucky, every time. I jerk off to a photo I have of him too."

Sharon gawped at him for a moment and then shut her mouth and looked down at the rug. "Okay. I wasn't expecting that."

Steve unwrapped the sandwich and took an experimental nibble to see if his stomach could take it. "See? I'm not the good guy everyone seems to think I am. A good person wouldn't have done what I did."

"Steve, people do far worse than that. What you did was...yeah, it wasn't right but..."

"That doesn't make it any better. Clint's a great guy and he didn't deserve to be treated like that...I knew what I was doing and I kept doing it." He got up and poured himself a glass of water, taking three of the Advil and sat heavily back down on the bed.

Sharon sat back and folded her arms. "I knew there was more to how you felt about Bucky. I'm perceptive like that. It's one of my things that I'm good at."

Steve managed a smile. "So you couldn't have used that perception earlier?"

Sharon kicked his shin. " _You_ wouldn't talk to me. I gave you plenty of chances to spit it out."

Steve sighed and rubbed his face. "I know. Natasha's not going to be speaking to me for a while. I've made things awkward for everyone else."

"Well, I'm not going to tell Tony and Rhodey anything. I know Nat won't. We'll deal with it."

Steve balled up the sandwich wrapper and threw it at the trash can. It missed.

Sharon tapped her foot against the desk. "Will you be seeing Bucky any time soon?"

"Not until the 29th." Steve rested his face in his hands.

Sharon stood up and came and sat next him on the bed. "Are you going to tell him how you feel?"

Steve didn't raise his head. "I have to."

Sharon sighed and put her arm around Steve's shoulders and he immediately leaned in and choked back a sob. Sharon was a good person. Too good for him. He didn't feel like anyone should be nice to him right now.

"I fucked up," he said.

Sharon pulled him into a hug. "You're a human being. You _are_ allowed to fuck up once in a while."

***

The next week passed in a dull haze. Steve tried to call Clint, left him messages and texts but he'd been completely cut off. He considered calling Natasha but he didn't think that was a good idea. His mom knew something was wrong as soon as he called and was sympathetic and hurt for him when he finally told her; there was no way he could tell her the whole story so he just told her it hadn't worked out. Sharon was the one person he could really talk to but he didn't want to dump everything on her. He went to his classes but took nothing in; he just wanted to go home to Brooklyn and sleep. He stayed for the last week of the semester out of obligation, not wanting to disappoint his teachers or his mom but he may as well have not been there at all. Through it all he still longed for Bucky.

***

 **CLINT:** Please don't text me or leave me any more messages. I don't want to talk, I don't want to see you. We should just go our separate ways. Don't make this any harder for me.

***

Mrs Rogers tried not to act like the annoying mom when Steve came home so she did the only thing she could do to make him feel better: She put on terrible Christmas movies and hugged him until he fell asleep on the couch. Steve spent the next few days mostly sleeping and reading; Sharon called him a couple of times, determined not to let him hate himself into oblivion. Bucky texted him to say that the signal in Wisconsin was terrible and he'd let Steve know as soon as he was back.

Steve heard nothing more from Clint or Natasha; Tony sent him a couple of insulting texts, concern hidden under the expletives and Rhodey sent him a video of a Red Panda playing with a pumpkin. He watched TV without interest, his brain trying to formulate how he was going to talk to Bucky when he was back and working out every possible scenario that admitting his true feelings would bring. They were all bad.

Christmas Day was nice and Steve tried his best not to be miserable; his mom had fought hard to get the day off, agreeing to work a mean shift throughout the New Year and he wanted it to be pleasant for her. They opened their presents and watched Scrooged (a family tradition) and drank Irish Coffee. They ate dinner and watched Arrested Development together.

Bucky texted him on the 26th.

 **BUCKY:** Hey, we'll be back tomorrow night now instead. Want to hang out on Wednesday?

 **STEVE:** Sounds good. Mom's pulling a double shift from tomorrow so we can stay at mine. Everything okay with the grandparents?

 **BUCKY:** Yeah fine. They're coming to visit for Spring Break so we cut the trip short.Can't wait to see you :)

Steve spent twenty minutes attempting to send something back but finally gave up.

***

Wednesday morning at 11:10am, there was a knock on the front door and Steve nervously adjusted his shirt and hair and answered it. Bucky was leaning against the door frame, a cocky grin on his face. His hair was shorter than the last time they'd Skyped and he looked a little thinner. He had dark smudges under his eyes. Steve's insides rearranged themselves in a swirling mess of elation, dread, desire and hopelessness.

"Hey asshole," Bucky said.

"What up, douchebag," Steve replied and they grabbed each other in a hug. Steve breathed in Bucky's familiar smell and pulled away before he unintentionally made the hug weird.

Bucky stepped back and eyed him. "You look really good. You know, considering."

Steve just grunted. "You look terrible, Buck."

Bucky laughed. "Gee, thanks. I know, though. MIT is kicking my butt. I can't seem to keep up." He walked into the apartment and Steve closed the door. His mom wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning so he had all day to tell Bucky how he felt. He just needed the right moment.

"You'll be okay. You always are."

Bucky sighed and laced his fingers behind his head. "I kind of thought I'd be into it by now. Anyway, no more college talk. All I want to do today is hang out with my best bud and do sweet FA."

Steve laughed and they spent the next few hours lounging on the couch, watching TV and eating junk. They slipped into their usual sarcastic routine and it was like how it had always been before they both left high school and Steve found himself finally relaxing and just enjoying how easy it was to be with Bucky again, pushing his deeper feelings aside for the time being. Bucky insisted that they watch Herbie: Fully Loaded as a joke but they both ended up enjoying it more than they thought, neither of them wanting to quite admit it.

"I don't understand why everyone hates Lindsay Lohan so much," Steve said after the movie ended. "She's not _that_ bad." He said it so sincerely that Bucky started laughing and couldn't stop, even when Steve tried to smother him with a cushion.

"Hey, I can go and get the Xbox if you think you can stand to be annihilated at Tekken?" Bucky finally said, picking up some Cheetos that had fallen on the floor.

"Sure, I'll let you win like I always do."

Bucky snorted as they stood up. "You don't let me win. I'm _awesome_ at Tekken."

Steve followed him out of the apartment and down the hall. "No, I _let_ you win at Tekken because you're a sore fucking loser."

"Oh, this is so on," Bucky said as he unlocked the front door to his apartment.

They walked through to the living room and Becca and one of her friends were slouched on the couch, each playing on a 3DS while the TV blared out some channel full of obnoxious pop music.

"What are you doing back here, loser?" she said to Bucky. "You said you were going to be out all day." She looked up and smiled. "Oh, hey Steve!"

"Hey Becca. How are you?"

"I'm good. This is my friend, Kamala. Kam, this is _Steve_ who I was telling you about." She nudged her friend in the side.

"Hello," Kamala said automatically and did a double take at Steve when she looked up. "Uh, hello," she said again and her eyes went wide and she quickly looked back down at her 3DS when Steve smiled and held up a hand.

Becca watched as Bucky started to unhook the Xbox from the TV unit. "What are you doing?" she said.

"I'm taking the Xbox to Steve's."

"What if _we_ want to play on the Xbox?" Becca narrowed her eyes at Bucky. Kamala was trying very hard not to stare at Steve.

Bucky gave her an indignant look. "You've got a fucking 3DS. I think you can go without it for one day. You only want it now because I'm taking it."

"Mom will be mad if she hears you using the f-bomb," Becca said, already losing interest in the argument.

Bucky picked up the console and tucked it under his arm. "Mom's not here and nobody likes a snitch. When are they back?"

Becca shrugged. "Three or something."

Bucky headed for the front door. "I'll be at Steve's if you need me."

"I don't need you. Bye, Steve," she called and nudged Kamala again.

"Bye, girls," Steve said. Before they closed the front door he heard Becca say "I told you! I _knew_ you were into blonds!" and Kamala hissed back angrily, "Shut the fuck _up_ , Becks."

***

They played Tekken for a few hours and Steve howled with laughter as, true to his word, he _doesn't_ let Bucky win this time and Bucky loses his shit.

"This is so unfair. I thought I kicked ass at Tekken but my _best friend_ has been holding back all these years and _lying_ to me."

The statement hit Steve a bit too close to home and his laughter faded slightly as he thought about how he had treated Clint and what he needed to tell Bucky. He'd had such a great day just hanging out and he didn't want to think that he could ruin it all in a few short hours. He put down his controller and looked at his phone. It was 7:30pm - slightly later than he thought it was. "Are you hungry? We could order take-out."

Bucky tossed his controller aside. "I'm still feeling gross from all the crap we ate earlier. Maybe we should go for a walk or something?"

Steve groaned. "But it's snowing out."

"Exactly. Don't you want to make snow angels?" Bucky grinned at him.

"All the snow in Brooklyn will be gray slush by now."

Bucky thought for a moment. "How about the roof? Have you still got that key for the padlock?"

Years ago, when they were trying to get up onto the roof (it was off-limits for tenants which is why they wanted to get up there so badly) they had found a spare key still in the padlock. Steve had taken it in a rare display of waywardness and no-one had ever asked about it, not even bothering to replace the lock with a new one. Going up on the roof had been their secret thing for a good few years, the one place they could go to get away from everyone. Even Becca hadn't found out.

Steve went to his room and shuffled through his old CDs. The key was still tucked away inside one of his Foo Fighters albums.

"Surely the same padlock won't be on there?" Steve said as he pulled on his boots and winter jacket.

"I guess we'll find out," Bucky said as he put on Steve's other boots and grabbed his old ski jacket. "I can't believe you still have this," he said as he zipped it up. Steve had bought it for a school trip they had taken to Colorado in the 11th grade. "You're huge now, it can't still fit."

Steve yanked the hood down over Bucky's eyes as Bucky pulled it up over his head. "Yeah, but it still fits you."

They headed quietly up the stairs to the top floor and found the stairwell up to the roof. It still had the same weird smell of varnish and damp that Steve could remember from all those years back. When was the last time they'd been up here?

Bucky made a triumphant noise when the key worked and Steve took off the padlock. "Holy shit, that's insane. Six years and the same fucking padlock?"

"Lucky for us," Steve smiled and opened the door.

It was freezing up on the roof but one look at the untouched snow that lay across it was enough to reduce them both to twelve years old again. They bounded about like lunatics, frantically trying to mess up any pristine snow before the other could. Steve laughed as Bucky slid on a patch of ice and went down hard on his ass.

"Don't laugh, asshole. Help me up!" Bucky held out his hand.

"Yeah, like I'm going to fall for that one. You'll drag me down and mash my face into the snow." Steve stepped back, panting. "You got me four times with that little routine when we were younger before I wised up."

Bucky grumbled and got to his feet. "Okay, fine." He brushed the snow off of his jeans and rubbed his behind. "It _did_ hurt though."

Steve made a face. "Aw, poor boo boo."

Bucky laughed and kicked a fine dusting of snow at Steve. He looked around. "When was the last time we were up here?" He walked over to the edge of the building. Someone had since put up a chain-link barrier that ran along the entire roof. The snow was falling less heavily now and the noises from the city were strangely muffled. Steve joined him and chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I don't know. It's been a while."

Bucky clapped his gloved hands together and barked out a laugh. "The beers."

Steve laughed with him. "Oh wow, yeah. The beers. How many did we drink before we realised they were non-alcoholic?"

Bucky leaned against the fence and laughed hard. "I drank four. I was so excited that I hadn't been ID'd for two six-packs, I didn't even think to look."

"Well, your drunk acting was pretty good." Steve nudged Bucky on the arm.

"Hey, you had what, like three? And you were doing just as good a job of acting drunk as I was."

"You really went for it though," Steve leaned next to him and rested his head on the fence, looking up at the lazy snowflakes falling, trying to work up what little courage he had left to spill his guts.

"Well, I was trying to impress you." Bucky turned to him with a smile.

Steve looked at him, amused. "Why did you think you had to impress me?"

Bucky shrugged, eyes still on Steve. "I don't know. I was always trying to impress you. I still am, I guess."

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

Bucky looked down. "With MIT. I...I've come close to dropping out a couple of times, to be honest. I can't...I don't think I can do it. I don't really care what my parents would say but the thought of disappointing _you_ would be...too much."

Steve's stomach twisted; he had no idea that Bucky was struggling so badly that he was considering quitting. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Bucky just shrugged helplessly.

Steve reached out and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "You could never disappoint me, Buck. You know that, right?"

Bucky looked at him then with such a look of gratitude and flat-out _trust_ that something in Steve finally snapped and he made an involuntary noise of anguish and stepped back.

"I can't...I can't do it anymore..."

Bucky straightened up, concerned at the sudden shift in tone. "Steve? What is it?" He moved as if to approach him but Steve held up his hands. Bucky stopped and look confused.

Steve was aware that he was shaking. He took a shuddering breath. "The reason Clint broke up with me was because he realised that I'm in love with you."

Bucky froze. He didn't speak. Steve stood still, his breath making white plumes in front of him and he wished that he could grab the words from the air and shove them back into his mouth.

After an agonising moment, Bucky cleared his throat. A crease appeared between his eyes. "How long have you been..." He couldn't finish.

Steve's heart was sinking with each passing moment. This was steadily turning into one of the bad scenarios he had played out over and over in his mind. "Since...forever."

Bucky kind of ducked his head then and slowly pulled down his hood. His frown deepened and he turned away from Steve, looking out over their neighbourhood.

The panic started to rise in Steve then, sharp and cold. He couldn't move. "I'm sorry, Buck. I tried to make it go away but I just..."

The sentence died on his lips and the heavy silence between them returned.

When Bucky finally spoke, his voice was thick. "Do you know what the worst day of my life was?"

Steve shook his head, even though Bucky's back was to him. He must have heard the shuffle that Steve's heavy jacket made as he moved.

"When you called me and told me you were seeing someone." Bucky stared ahead at the buildings across the street.

Steve shook his head. "I don't...what do you mean?"

Bucky's gaze was fixed on the roof of the building opposite. "I thought that was it. That I'd finally lost you. Just when I realised...how I...how I was starting to feel about you. I felt so selfish...all that time, I'd been hoping that you wouldn't find anyone."

Steve's body didn't know how to respond. Everything inside him seemed to be rebooting slowly.

"It's been so tough at college. I can't seem to adjust to anything; the work, the people. Gabe has tried hard to get me to be a part of things but I just can't seem to be myself. Not without you."

Steve finally found his voice. "But I thought you liked it. The people you said you'd been hooking up with - "

Bucky chuckled but it was full of embarrassment. "There hasn't been anyone, not for a long time. I didn't want you to think that anything was wrong. I lied."

Steve walked forward a couple of steps. Bucky still wouldn't turn around. "Buck? Are you saying that you have feelings for me too?" His voice was so low it was barely audible.

Bucky turned to him but his head was still down. "Yes."

"But I didn't think you were...into guys."

Bucky laughed again, low and humourless. "I didn't think I was either. It's...it's only been you. It's been a confusing couple of years. It wasn't until I left for Massachusetts that I finally started to accept... " He trailed off.

Steve couldn't hold back his surprise. "A couple of years?"

Bucky rubbed his face with his hands. Steve hadn't even noticed that he'd taken off his gloves. "I didn't know for sure until you told me about Clint and then it was like I'd been hit by a fucking car. A lot of things seemed to finally fall into place for me."

"Why didn't you say anything? Wasn't it...wasn't _I_ totally obvious?"

Bucky met his eyes then, his face equal parts amused and terrified. "No, you weren't! I knew you were shy when it came to the whole dating thing and how hard it is for you to, you know, actually talk to any guys long enough to ask them out but if I had known that all this time, that you liked me...how was I supposed to know? You just acted like you. I never knew any different."

"I was scared that I'd screw up everything if I told you. I'm still scared that I'll ruin our friendship," Steve said softly.

Bucky stepped towards him. "That makes two of us."

Steve felt numb but it wasn't from the cold. "So what do we do?"

Bucky stepped closer and Steve could see how nervous he was. He was certain that he looked exactly the same. "I think I want to kiss you." Bucky's eyes were big and bright. "I guess then we'll know. If things get weird."

Steve nodded and stepped forward, closing the last little bit of distance between them. Before he could talk himself out of it he leaned in and kissed his best friend, arms wrapping around him and pulling him in. Bucky's lips were soft and warm and he put his hands on Steve's waist, gripping him tightly. Everything that had been welling up in Steve for the last six years finally burst and he kissed Bucky like it was the last time he might ever get to do so. If it wasn't right...if this wasn't what Bucky wanted...at least he got to do it, just once.

After a couple of minutes they parted, out of breath, both flushed. Steve's heart was hammering in his chest and he swallowed hard. Bucky looked kind of dazed and he blinked a couple of times as he focused on Steve. His eyes cleared and he frowned in concern.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I know," Steve said, not wanting to let Bucky go just yet. "I've been in love with you for most of my life and I just got to kiss you after years of thinking about it. I'm wondering whether or not I did the right thing."

Bucky finally smiled, soft and dreamy. "It felt like the right thing."

Steve felt like he wanted to cry. "Really?"

Bucky nodded and pressed his lips to Steve's again, brushing a cold hand against the back of his neck. They kissed on the roof until they were both freezing. 

***

They managed to make it back to Steve's apartment before they were on each other again, throwing off their boots and jackets, kissing as they did, before Bucky grabbed Steve's hand and dragged him to his room. They fell into a heap on Steve's bed, hands everywhere, their kisses all tongues and heat, breathing hard. Steve pulled away and held Bucky's face, searching his eyes.

"What?" Bucky asked, leaning on one elbow and looking down at him.

"You...you really do want me...?" he swallowed, "...this isn't just a one-time thing?"

Bucky's face softened. "Steve, since I started college, I don't think I've ever been more miserable and unsure about where I was headed in my entire life. I haven't felt like...like _me_ since I left. You know why? Because of you. You're the better part of me and I was an idiot for taking so fucking long to realise it. I don't want to waste any more time." He pressed his forehead to Steve's.

Steve closed his eyes. "I've wanted you for so long..."

"You've got me. All of me." Bucky sat up and straddled Steve, taking off his shirt.

He leaned back down and Steve kissed him hard, running his hands over Bucky's skin, unable to quite believe this was happening, his head light and swimming. He let Bucky take his t-shirt off and his breath caught in his throat as Bucky moved down and started to slowly unbutton his jeans.

***

When they finally made love, Steve kept his eyes open.

***

They were both quiet as they lay together afterwards and Steve just rested his head on Bucky's chest, letting his best friend gently rake his hand through his hair, still trying to process the sensation of their naked bodies pressed against each other. He felt like years of sadness and pain had finally washed away and he was...happy. Truly happy.

"It feels right, doesn't it?" Bucky asked after a little while.

Steve ran his hand down Bucky's side. "Yeah, it does." He turned his head to look up. "You don't think we're moving too fast?"

Bucky smiled that lazy Bucky smile and shook his head. "No. Like I said, I think we've wasted enough time. But if you're unsure and you want to take things slow, we can - "

Steve cut him off with a kiss, slow and deep. When he pulled away, he smiled and ran his hand up Bucky's chest to his neck. "I'm done with slow. I want everything right now."

Bucky smiled back. "How did I never look at you this way before?"

Steve shuffled up so he was resting his head on the pillow next to Bucky. "You said you _like_ liked me for a couple of years. When did you start to...?"

Bucky sighed and tucked his arm behind his head. "Remember when we were at the lake house that July Becca broke her leg? We went to the store to get some milk for Mom and we were just walking down the street and I turned to talk to you, but you'd stopped to pick a couple of apples from that big tree that hung over into the road. You kind of had to jump up to get them and I don't know, something in my brain just... _clicked_. And then you came up to me and gave me an apple and we just carried on walking. It wasn't even like some huge event but something just changed."

"I remember that," Steve said quietly.

Bucky frowned slightly. "It scared the crap out of me. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I was suddenly thinking about my best friend in a completely different way and it was just...terrifying."

"Yeah, I can sympathise," Steve said with a little smile.

Bucky put his arm around Steve's back and pulled him close. "I'm sorry you had to carry this for so long. I should have noticed - "

Steve shook his head. "How were you to know? I held onto it." He stroked his thumb along Bucky's jaw. "I still can't believe this is happening. I feel like...like I don't deserve this."

"Because of Clint?"

Steve nodded. "I should have ended it when I knew my feelings for you were getting in the way. It was cruel..."

Bucky kissed him. "Love is messy. It doesn't always go from A to B."

"I just wish he hadn't gotten hurt so I could feel this happy."

Bucky pulled the bed covers up over them both. "I feel kind of bad for the guy, but I'm really glad that I'm here with you right now and not him." He turned off Steve's beside lamp.

Steve sighed into the darkness and wrapped himself around Bucky. "Me too."

***

They ended up sleeping in later than they intended. Steve woke first and watched Bucky sleeping, never thinking he'd ever get to see this. He gently stroked Bucky's head, feeling that soft brown hair between his fingers and was surprised by the sudden surge of emotion he felt; that the thing he'd longed for most, longed for all of this time was finally his. When Bucky finally stirred and woke, seeing Steve gazing down at him, he smiled and pulled him down into a kiss.

"I think this is officially the best morning ever," Steve said, a blissful little smile on his face.

Bucky laughed softly. "All I did was wake up."

"Yeah, but you woke up next to me."

"God, is this how you really are? A big romantic idiot?" Bucky laughed again.

Steve kissed Bucky's neck and let his hand roam down his body. "Yep. Sorry."

Bucky's breath hitched as Steve's hand moved lower. "You don't have to be sorry, I like it."

Steve smiled again and was about to say something else when there was a knock on his bedroom door. He'd totally forgotten that his mom would be back from her long shift this morning. He looked down at Bucky wide-eyed and Bucky tensed.

"Stevie?" she called out. "Have you had any breakfast yet?"

His bedroom door started to open and he managed to squeak out, "Mom, no! Wait!" before he ducked under the covers.

Mrs Rogers froze in the doorway, still in her scrubs, just in time to see Steve disappear under the sheets. Bucky didn't bother to move and gave Mrs Rogers an embarrassed grin and a little wave.

"Good morning, Mrs Rogers. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

It took her a moment to find her voice, glancing down at the clothes strewn across the floor. "I did, thank you. Steve, I'm making green omelettes before I go to bed. Do you want one?"

There was a beat of silence before Steve replied, voice muffled under the bed covers. "Yes please."

"Would you like to stay for breakfast too, Bucky?" she asked.

Bucky nodded, cheeks pink. "Thanks, that would be great."

Mrs Rogers pulled the door closed. "Fifteen minutes, boys."

Bucky flopped back against the pillows with a groan. "Wow, that was awkward."

Steve emerged from the covers, furiously red in the face. "Shit. I forgot she would be back. Thank god we didn't...do anything."

Bucky laughed quietly and ran his hands through his hair. "Oh man, can you imagine?" He turned to Steve. "Does she know? How you've felt about me all these years..."

Steve nodded. "Until the whole thing with Clint, she was the only person who knew."

"I guess we'd better go and get this out of the way," Bucky said, getting out of bed and searching for his boxers.

***

There was less awkwardness at the table over breakfast than Steve had thought, his mom acting like it was any other time that Bucky had slept over in the past. Steve couldn't help but feel a sad wave of nostalgia as they ate the green omelettes - Mrs Rogers made them with scallions, green peppers and spinach - as it wasn't something they did much anymore. They had always been a favourite of Bucky's and Steve could tell that his mom was pleased he was enjoying his. When they finished, Bucky started to gather up the dishes to take them over to the sink but Mrs Rogers shooed him off.

"Steve will help me do the dishes," she said with a smile and sipped her coffee.

Bucky nodded and scratched his head. "Um, I'm going to head home and grab a shower."

Steve got up. "I'll see you out."

They headed to the front door and Steve watched as Bucky put his sneakers on, both smiling sheepishly at each other.

"Want to meet up in a few hours?" Bucky said quietly. "Mom and Dad are taking Becca and her friend to some Disney On Ice thing."

Steve smiled. "Yeah, sounds good." He hesitated then leaned in and kissed Bucky quickly, aware that his mom would see but that cat had jumped clear out of the bag over an hour ago.

Bucky grinned and gave Steve a little wave as he walked backwards down the hall. Steve closed the front door and took a breath. He was about to head to the kitchen and help his mom when there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, Bucky pulled him out into the hall.

"I just realised that last night, I didn't tell you..." he said softly.

"Tell me what?" Steve said.

"That I'm in love with you too."

Bucky laughed when he saw the look on Steve's face and hugged him. Steve didn't want to let him go and finally stepped back, watching as Bucky skipped down the corridor.

"I fucking love you, Steve Rogers!" he shouted when he was at the end of the hall and Steve ducked back into his apartment, smiling and flushed and feeling like he'd just stepped off of a rollercoaster. He gave himself a minute and then walked uncertainly into the kitchen where he could hear his mom doing the dishes. He picked up a towel and started to dry a plate.

"So, you and Bucky." Mrs Rogers finally said and gave him a questioning glance. There was no judgement in it.

"Yeah, it just kind of happened," Steve said, not quite wanting to meet her eyes yet.

"You don't think it's a bit soon? After Clint, I mean."

Steve leaned against the counter, wringing the dish towel in his hands. "Clint broke up with me because my feelings for Bucky were getting in the way of our relationship. I finally told him last night how I felt about him and...turns out he's been feeling the same way about me for a while now."

Mrs Rogers nodded and scrubbed the omelette pan, considering what Steve said for a little while. "I just want you to be happy, Steve. That's all I've ever wanted. I know how happy Bucky has always made you and I hope it works out between the two of you. I really do." She looked up and gave him a genuine smile.

Steve kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom. I do too."

She turned back to the sink and washed another plate. Steve picked up a mug and started to dry it.

"Just...next time leave a sock or something on the door handle, will you? I don't want to walk in on something I'll _really_ never be able to un-see."

"Oh my god, _Mom_."

***

Three months later, Steve watched from the bar as Bucky played pool with Tony in Wade's, both of them arguing and snarky and sarcastic as they tried to out-do their shots on the table. He could tell they liked each other though. Sharon was laughing with Rhodey and gave Steve a little wave when he looked over. He had called her not long after his talk with his mom, the morning after he and Bucky had become an official thing and she had been delighted for him. She had told him several times since that he looked happy. Becca had blabbed about the photo of Bucky she had given to Steve when she had found out that they were together and Steve still hadn't heard the end of it, Bucky teasing him about it any chance he got. Steve didn't mind - he'd just been relieved that Bucky had found it funny and not weird.

Natasha was talking with her date, a guy from her International Relations class called Sam, who seemed pretty cool. It was the first time since his break-up with Clint that Steve had seen her, surprised when she had turned up and greeted him. He watched as she said something to Sam and he wandered over to talk to Sharon and Rhodey. Natasha joined him at the bar where she watched Bucky and Tony for a moment. Steve wasn't too sure what to say.

"So, you told him," she finally said.

Steve nodded. "Yeah."

"He seems nice."

Steve chewed his lip. "How are you?"

Natasha nodded and gave a shrug. "I'm good. Enjoying my new fella."

Steve hesitated a moment before asking, "How's Clint?"

Natasha looked at him then. "He's actually really good. He's seeing someone."

"Will you tell him I said hi?" Steve said softly.

Natasha smiled and Steve hoped that she could like him again. "Sure."

Bucky came over to the bar and leaned in to kiss Steve. "Buy your guy a beer?"

Sam called Natasha over and she excused herself, touching Steve lightly on the arm and sauntering over to the pool table to play doubles with the others.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Bucky said as Steve passed him a beer. "I've been thinking about it a lot." He laughed softly when he saw Steve's brow furrow unconsciously. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad."

"What is it?" Steve asked.

Bucky took a deep breath. "I'm dropping out of MIT. I've talked it through with my folks and they're not happy about it but it just isn't for me. I've tried, I really have but it's just too much. Being away from you doesn't help."

"Buck, please don't drop out because of me - "

"It's not because of you, not entirely. There's a Mechanical Engineering course at Columbia that seems more like something I can handle and enjoy and my folks have agreed that I can start there in the fall. I'll be paying them back for a while but...if it means I can go to school here _and_ be with you, I think it's worth it." He looked up at Steve, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Just promise me that you're not selling yourself short?"

"I promise I'm not. So...what do you think?"

Steve buried his head in Bucky's shoulder and pulled him in. "I think I want you here all the time."

Bucky laughed and kissed Steve's temple. "Everyone thinks we're moving too fast with all of this but we know each other better than anyone. I guess _technically_ we've been together for years, it's just only recently that's started to include giving each other blow-jobs."

Steve spluttered out a startled laugh. "Buck!"

They stood and smiled at each other, together in a way that Steve had always hoped they would be.


End file.
